The Suspension Bridge Experiment
by hiding duh
Summary: Penny/Sheldon, but secretly Penny/Career. Penny's psychic was right.


**Title**: The Suspension Bridge Experiment  
**Fandom**: The Big Bang Theory  
**Characters/Pairings**: Penny/Sheldon, but secretly Penny/Career  
**Summary**: Penny's psychic was right.  
**Rating**: PG  
**Spoilers**: Through 3x12  
**Word Count**: 3,000  
**Notes**: I'm kinda worried about this girl.

* * *

*

Look, Penny sort of gets science.

She gets experiments.

As a kid, she tried to build a jet pack out of two fire extinguishers and a box of firecrackers.

(It didn't work. Boy, did it not work.)

So when she starts dating Leonard, she tells herself it's an experiment.

(It doesn't work. Boy, does it ever not work.)

Leonard is supposed to be her one nice guy, that new thing she said she wanted to try, but maybe the definition of nice has changed since she last looked. Okay, so she never technically googled the word or anything, but it's gotta be her.

Before Leonard, she either dated losers or turned them into losers. So maybe with Leonard, she's either dating a jackass or turning him into one.

Which is why Penny just walks into the nearest hair salon on an Anything Can Happen Thursday and tells the first pair of scissors to hack away.

It's just an experiment, okay.

*

This is stupid.

Short hair is stupid. It makes her look like a street urchin. It makes her look like she should be auditioning for Annie. Or an actual position at an orphanage.

"It's lovely."

Penny turns her head from the shop window. "That jacket inside? Yeah, I know," she sighs, palming the glass. Great, like a street urchin. "It's half my rent, though," she tells the scrawny woman standing next to her. "Wanna help me steal it?"

"I meant your hair," the woman says casually, giving Penny the once-over.

Hey. Maybe Penny can date a nice woman next. Well. Maybe not one as old and skeletal as this lady, but you know. A nice one.

"Yeah, no," she grins. "I'm not saying it's a major catastrophe or anything," she says after a beat, thoughtful. "More like... Mirror-Spock, you know? No. No, of course you don't know. You look like you leave the house."

"What's your name?"

Penny freezes.

"Penny," she replies awkwardly. "Look, I wasn't serious about stealing that jacket. And you should tell me if you're a cop."

"Penny, huh," the woman tells her, slipping a business card into Penny's pocket. "I can work with that."

*

So.

Penny has an agent.

She tries not to call her obsessively, or ask questions like, "Are you seriously my agent? I have an agent? Seriously? You're not a Cylon, right?"

*

Turns out: Penny knows nothing about the industry.

In high school, when people voted her Most Likely to Bone Brad Pitt, she figured acting consisted of looking pretty and being able to read. She could read and she was pretty, so obviously, she assumed she would totally become a movie star.

Yeah.

"You're _moving_?"

"Leonard," she says slowly, hunting for trinkets she's scattered all over his apartment. "The set is really far away." She digs out an anklet from a cushion, and stuffs it into a garbage bag. "It doesn't make sense for me to drive to work every morning if I get this part."

"Yeah, but," Leonard says, scrunching up his eyebrows and wringing his fingers, "what if you, um, don't?"

"Gee, thanks," she mumbles, scanning the bookshelves. Maybe she should steal a few. Books, not bookshelves.

"Penny," Leonard tries again, "I just think it's silly—"

"There's nothing silly about it," Sheldon interrupts, clacking away at his keyboard. "Distance is rate over time, so however unusual my next statement will be, Penny's point is perfectly valid."

Leonard stares at him for a moment, then quickly turns to Penny. "Penny, this is crazy. You can't move away just because your _psychic_ told you to!"

Penny straightens. "First of all, Leonard, my _agent_ suggested it," she warns. "You know, the one I now have because I cut my hair?"

Exasperated, Leonard spreads his arms and says, "You can't possibly think there's a correlation between your psychic telling you—"

"—AND second of all," she grits out, dragging the bag across the rug, "this is still my life. I can do whatever I want with it!"

Leonard squirms. "Penny, don't take this the wrong way, but uh, yeah. Yeah, this is the definition of stupid."

Penny watches him for a moment.

"Okay," she nods. "This experiment is over."

*

"Penny."

Her door shakes. It's new. It shouldn't shake. Especially not this late at night.

"Penny." Three knocks and she's fully awake and padding across her new living room.

"Penny."

She waits for the knocking to taper off, then swings the door open, squinting at him through a mess of bangs. "How'd you _get_ here?"

Slowly, Sheldon lowers his arm. "I took a taxi." He averts his eyes. "Four of them."

She slumps against the door, rubbing her eyes. "Oh, honey, did the first three cabbies kick you out?"

He shifts a little. "Actually, all four insisted I remove myself from their vehicles. I can assure you I will be writing a strongly-worded letter to the Better Business Bureau."

"Oh, joy," she grins, waving him inside with a sleepy shuffle.

He scans the apartment with disdain, clutching his messenger bag.

"I know, I know," she jumps in before he can open his mouth. "There's a draft," she stuffs a glass of water into his hand, "and too many windows, and oh, the glare. The glare is unbearable."

He watches her for a long moment.

Then: "Penny, you have to come home."

Something weird tightens her belly. "Sheldon, _this_ is my home now."

"No."

She crosses her arms, tensing. "Did Leonard send you here?"

He fidgets briefly, then says, "...yes."

She takes the glass back with a huff and ushers him out. "Yeah, well, you can go tell Leonard that I got the part, and that he can so suck it, okay," she pauses, one hand on his shoulder blade. It feels warm. "Just... use bigger words."

*

It's not her thing.

It's the kind of show her parents would watch. The kind of show she guesses would be popular across retirement communities worldwide. The kind of show that runs for an unnecessary number of episodes and kills her off seven times during sweeps.

But she loves it.

Sure, after three years with the boys, she thought about being the next Buffy or Supergirl or Sarah Connor, but this is pretty awesome, too.

"So, I hear our chemistry is _electrifying_," her costar winks, and though he's not famous, Penny can tell he will be.

"Jet packs," she says.

His dimples deepen. "Sorry, what?"

"I tried to build one and it didn't work."

Yeah, this isn't her thing anymore.

*

Raj shows up on her doorstep one Sunday, gesturing frantically.

"Slow down!" she says, dragging him inside. "Are you testing meds again? Are seizures a side-effect?"

His mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Then, determined, he taps his shoulder and slices the air with two fingers.

Penny cocks her head, eyes narrowed. "Your... arm is being amputated...?"

Adorably frustrated, Raj crosses the room and grabs a napkin, scribbling down, _ASL_.

"What's an asl—" she starts, wrinkling her nose, then perks up. "Oh! Sign language!" She pats his shoulder. "Sweetie, I'd rather hook you up to a vodka drip than learn that. Speak."

It takes him a moment to compose himself. Then: _You have to come home_.

She makes a face. "Raj," she sighs, "you guys are worrying way too much. Leonard's going to be okay," she tells him earnestly. "I promise you we didn't end on bad—"

"Not Leonard!" Raj blurts out, clamping both hands over his mouth.

Penny blinks.

Well, that's weird.

Who else is there?

*

Her lines are easy.

It's scary how easy they are. Three years ago, they would've given her a headache. Now she can deliver a thirty-second rant about decomposition and ancient Greece in a way that makes people think she really does work in a quirky lab somewhere.

Sometimes, between takes, she gets the inexplicable urge to play Halo.

*

Howard sneaks onto the set, dressed like the UPS guy.

"What can brown do for _you_?" he leers, curtsying.

She scrambles out of her chair at something approximate to the speed of light, and drags him behind the nearest pillar.

"What is wrong with you? How did you find this place?" she hisses, but hey, it's Howard. Howard's here. She's happy to see the little creep.

Wait.

"Did you have me microchipped before I left?" she threatens, suspicious.

"Penny," he says, squirming, "that's illegal." He chances a peek at her uniform. "Without your consent, anyway. Wait, would you be willing to... sign something, perchance?" He pats himself down hastily, "I think I probably have a copy on me somewhere—"

"Howard."

He clears his throat, and squares his shoulders. "Look, you have to come home."

Penny blinks. "Okay, seriously, did you guys rehearse this or something?"

*

The pilot gets picked up.

There's a party and an afterparty and an afterafterparty, and yeah, Penny looks freakin' amazing. She should strut around and blow kisses at cameras. Maybe she should even consider a nip-slip like that other hot girl in the cast; get a jump start with the tabloids or something.

Penny goes home instead.

Well. Home. She starts going home, seriously, but takes the wrong exit, entirely by accident. She still drives her dinky old car with the broken check engine light, and it's weird how easily it fits into her old parking spot.

She's going to be the mysterious type, she decides as she lets herself in; make people curious about her private life. Yeah. That's what she's going to do.

"Hello, Sheldon."

He doesn't look up, hunched over his laptop on the couch.

She crashes next to him, and toes off her heels. "Is this one of those universes where I'm dead?"

Sheldon stops typing. "No. I'm just ignoring you."

Her lips curl up. "Wanna play Halo?"

"We can't play Halo. It's not Halo Night."

"It's _Thursday_," she coaxes. "We can do whatever we want."

Annoyed, he closes his laptop with a soft click and turns to look at her.

"Penny, Penny, Penny," he sighs. "If we could, indeed, do whatever we want, I would be playing three-dimensional chess with Bruce Banner on K-AG-212 right now. One of these things, need I remind you, is fictional, while the other is hurtling towards Earth at approximately twenty thousand miles an hour. I will let you decide which is which."

Oh.

Oh, this is nice.

"Ask me about my show, Sheldon."

Sheldon cranes his neck. "Is this a non-optional—"

"Yup."

"Very well," he recites. "How is your show doing, Penny."

She beams up at him, curling her fingers against her lap. "It's a cute crime procedural, so you'll really hate it."

"You're assuming I'll actually watch your show; how humble of you." He turns to give her a grin nightmares are made of. "_Sarcasm_."

She eyes the remote. "So... if I check your DVR, I won't find a reminder for—"

Sheldon freezes. "There is a fifty percent chance Leonard programmed any such—purely hypothetical—feature."

Penny purses her lips, satisfied.

He stays silent for a moment, then says, "Penny."

"Sheldon?"

"Do you want to play Halo?"

*

Leonard asks her out for dinner.

"No, I'm serious," he complains over a plate of fried rice, "murder is back on the table." He shifts in his chair, brows knitting. "Wolowitz had us watch 1000 Ways to Die. We were inspired. Raj built a guillotine out of a bookshelf, and I took two pages of _notes_."

Penny frowns, chopsticks stuck in midair. "You can't kill Sheldon, Leonard."

He fixes her with a pointed look. "Again, we _can_, but we're not allowed to."

There's a stupid little knot in her stomach. Must be the shrimp. "Okay, well, what the hell's wrong with him anyway?"

Leonard offers a frustrated little noise, "Spoiler alert, Penny—he's _crazy_."

She bites back a grin. She likes this Leonard. Very much. "Leonard, just apologize to him and he'll get over it."

With a blink, Leonard levels his eyes with hers. "Penny, _we_ didn't do anything."

She rolls her eyes a little, and opens her mouth to snark.

"_You_ did," he finishes.

The shrimp lodges in her throat. "...what?"

Leonard fidgets, sucking in his cheeks. "Okay, have you heard of the Capilano bridge experiment?" Off her blank look, he smiles sheepishly and adds, "There's this thing called the suspension bridge effect that tentatively proves there's a connection between fear and attraction. Essentially, dopamine reacts similarly to attraction and terror, so if you're walking across a suspension bridge, hanging a thousand feet in the air, and meet a person of the opposite sex, your brain will interpret fear as love."

"...what?"

Awkwardly, Leonard starts, "There are three things Sheldon seriously fears—"

"Change, germs, and Leslie Winkle winning the Nobel Prize," Penny nods.

Taken aback, Leonard clenches his jaw. "Uh, yes..." He shakes it off. "So, anyway. You have to come home."

The knot unravels. "Raj sent me a video of your new neighbor. The new guy seems... fun."

"Yes, he and his seven chins are very entertaining, especially when he's passed out in the hallway, wearing his mother's bra, but Penny—"

"Your mother called me."

He trails off with a squeak. "Oh. So. Uh. Did she... did she say anything? And please feel free to spare my feelings."

Penny shrugs, taking another bite. "Oh, you know, just that it was a smart decision to break up with you so I could take responsibility for my own—you know what? It's really not important, trust me."

He contemplates for a minute, then admits, "After you left, I called my mother."

"Crap on a cracker, I broke you, I'm so sorry!"

The corners of his lips twitch. "She offered me an MRI."

Penny grins easily. "Me, too."

Leonard relaxes in his chair. "So, your costar is kind of pretty."

*

One Saturday, she's up way too early, reading a script.

"Obvious sweeps material," the other hot girl says, fingers wrapped around a coffee mug.

Penny tries to focus on the blurry dialogue. "Ten bucks says one of us dies," she agrees.

"Or sleeps with the boss."

They flip the page together.

"Told you."

Penny yawns, sliding off the couch and dragging herself to the kitchen. "Okay, run your schmoopy lines. I need breakfast if I'm going to stay awake through this crap."

"Aw, wanna switch? 'Cause my boyfriend says I don't sound convincing when I say 'I love you.' I don't wanna get fired."

A lazy smile stretches Penny's lips. She pours milk over her cereal and chides, "Close your eyes and think of the ratings, girl."

"It's because I overuse the word, you know? Like, I love you, shoes. I love you, paycheck. I love you, boyfriend."

Spoon hanging from her lips, Penny raises both eyebrows. "Well, shoes are very important."

"Was Lenny ever on your ass about this?"

Penny frowns. "Well, one: he didn't think I could act." She pauses, licking the spoon. "And two: it never came up with Leonard. I said it to—and about—Sheldon, like, twice, but..."

"Penny?"

"...oh, wow. I'm sorry. I have to go home."

"Um, yeah, Penny, this is your apartment..."

Penny's tugging on her uggs and charging the door before she can reconsider. "I know!"

*

It takes her freakin' hours.

In shorts and a tank top, and with a piece of crap car, it takes forever to get there. Right on time for laundry night.

She finds him by the washing machines, meticulously measuring detergent.

"You're late," he says calmly, back turned.

She catches her breath, leaning against the doorway. "Hey, maybe I'm early."

He closes the lid. "No. You're late."

She feels a lopsided grin pulling on her lips. "C'mon, there's a guillotine in your kitchen. I got here in time to save your life. This is what we call time-traveling magic! Say thank you."

"Penny," he turns around. "There is no such thing as magic. Even The Force in Star Wars was nothing more than midichlorians—"

She crosses the room. "Say thank you, Sheldon."

He hesitates. "Thank you, Sheldon."

Her hair is still short and her psychic is still on speed dial, but she doesn't need help with this. "You got anything to say to me?"

He backs up against the washer, ramrod straight. "Your show doesn't suck," he tries, amending, "though it is unforgivably inaccurate on several levels."

Yeah.

It's time to start a new experiment. One of those messy ones, like the time she gutted a frog when all the other girls were too afraid.

Penny's never been afraid of a challenge, okay.

"Anything else, Sheldon?"

The veins on his neck jump nervously. "Welcome home, Penny."

*

Look, Penny gets this.

She gets Sheldon.

So, okay, she's not a scientist, and she's kind of way over her head, but this is an experiment she's pretty sure only she can try.

(It works.)


End file.
